Between The Shadow & The Soul
by Vreeka
Summary: "I moved on. To the living." Inspired by When She Was Bad, what if in the summer of 1997, when Buffy meets a pair of brothers in sunny LA on a visit with her dad, she does just that? A wild teen fling ensues. Set at the end of Chosen, Buffy runs into her summer fling, Dean. See chapter 1 for more details. WIP
1. When We Were Young

because no one likes a vague **disclaimer:** All main characters belong to both fantasticals Joss Whedon and Eric Kripke.

Summary: Set after Chosen, Buffy's living in Cleveland protecting another hell mouth. With Sam off at college, Dean is mostly on his own, occasionally joining ranks with other hunters. He stumbles upon a case in Cleveland, and runs into a fling from his past. What happens when the truth, the _whole_ truth, finally comes out? Buffy/Dean pairing. Will include flashbacks of the summer of '97 intermittently throughout the story, each will be dated to avoid confusion. Siblings and rents to make appearances. Rated T for teen fluff and smut-free reading. Some angst.

Some **warnings** : This is a Work In Progress so updates may be slow. Sorry.

Thanks for reading.

* * *

 **PROLOGUE:**

 _Summer 1997_

Sitting shotgun in the Impala, his dad solemn as he always is behind the wheel and Sammy snoozing in the backseat, Dean can see the city lights shimmering in the distance, growing brighter the closer they get. He smiles wistfully, eager to raise a little hell in the city of angels.

Big cities aren't usually high on his dad's list of go-to destinations, both in that they present far too many risks, and offer little chance of success. This time however, they aren't on a hunt. The plan is to take the weekend off.

It'd all been his idea. They'd just finished a job in San Juan Capistrano taking out a vengeful spirit that'd been determined to kill the unfaithful men living in a 10 million dollar home gated community. Since they didn't have one of those, and were traipsing in a neighbourhood full of step-ford like families, the luxury life that eluded them was like salt in a paper-cut . After they were done, Dean could see the longing for normalcy as clear as day in Sam's eyes and he knew it was time to give the kid a small taste of it, or at least a distraction from it.

L.A. he'd suggested. They were only an hour away and it was the Fourth of July weekend. Sam would start school soon, and then it'd be just them. Why not partake in a civilian holiday as a family for once, and do as they did, and take some time off? John didn't give in to the idea quickly, but Dean knew just how to push, Sam lit up just enough for their father to notice, and soon they were on their way.

"You do realize we won't be staying anywhere near Tinseltown Dean," The eldest Winchester states then, the words more of a remark than a question.

"Hadn't crossed my mind," He hadn't expected to in the least, and didn't care either way.

"You'll stay with Sam." John continues.

There's no questioning tone here, and while he's presumed as much, the statement leaves him feeling uneasy.

"It's a dangerous city, and that's not counting the usual stuff."

With his eyes trained on his father, and a sense that there's more coming, he only replies, "Understood."

John turns to him, momentarily surprised by his son's intent gaze, "I have to make a stop."

His eyes revert back to the road, and Dean suddenly understands why his dad had given in so easily.

"Dropping us off first?" He tries to ask casually but fails, hearing the disappointment laced in his voice.

"I won't be long."

He nods, and turns back to the skyline. He's heard those words plenty of times, and he spends the rest of the trip contemplating the right way to break it to Sammy.

†

She's been in Los Angeles for about two weeks now, and while she'd been anxious for the trip and visit with her father, now it all seems so... mundane. Sure, he's spoiled her with clothes and shoes, movies and lattes, and she hasn't staked a single vampire since she's been here, she just can't find the joy in any of it. Even Dawn seems less annoying these days.

She thinks momentarily of Angel and wonders what he's doing, then fiercely shakes the curiosity away. She knows she shouldn't go down that road, it'll just end in heartbreak or death.

"He's a damn vampire, for crying out loud." She mumbles derisively to herself.

She returns her eyes to the view from her bedroom window, letting the sight of the setting sun fill her mind instead.

"Buffy!" She hears Dawn's voice shouting from somewhere beyond her room.

"What?!" She yells back, her gaze firmly put.

Her slayer hearing picks up the footsteps heading her way and turning she suddenly sees the youngest Summers girl standing at her bedroom door, her hair loose and a wild grin on her face.

"Dad's taking us to the Santa Monica Pier for the fireworks show tomorrow!"

Her reaction is the opposite of her sister's, and with a small sneer she just replies, "Great."

Dawn rolls her eyes. "You're such a party pooper."

She leaves the room without another word as Buffy doesn't bother to reply, just takes her sight back to the outdoors. Night is near, and she can feel the demons rousing out there, the waves of anticipation, hunger, violence, and blood rolling over her. The feeling is so akin to the slayer within her, pinging around like a pinball in response to their nearness, that she barely lets herself move. She's afraid if she does, she'll lose control and the slayer will take over.

Ever since the Master... and Xander brought her back, it's always there now, pressing down on her, not even leaving the Hellmouth has been able to loosen its grip on her. In an effort to focus on other things, she shakes her shoulders and turns away from the view of the outside.

"I need a distraction." She says aloud to herself.

With a grin, she decides then and there to forget about all of her issues, from Angel, to dying to her misgivings with her dad and just appreciate the gesture, and enjoy herself tomorrow.

†

As it turns out, he doesn't even get a chance to break it to Sam.

They'd arrived late in the night, and knowing his dad would get a few hours of shut eye, then head out at the break of dawn, there'd be no need for explanations. Sam would wake to find an absent father, and it would all be crystal clear, no words necessary.

It plays out exactly as he thinks, but by the time his little brother does wake, he has a plan.

"Up and at 'em Sammy!" He bellows out after he sees his little brother duck his head back under his pillow.

Dean yanks the cushion away, and scruffs his brother's hair up. Sam makes an effort to shake him away to no avail.

"Ok Dean! I'm up." The youngest Winchester grumbles back.

"What's the rush anyway? Dad's already gone."

He tries to ignore that comment in an effort to keep the mood light.

"I've got big plans for us. So get up, shower, whatever, do your thing so we can get the hell out of this dump!"

His little brother manages something of a grin, "Where are we going?"

"I thought we'd start at Venice beach, do a little sight seeing," He wiggles his brows suggestively.

By Sam's expression, Dean knows he's picked up on the innuendo, so he grins.

"And then, oh I don't know, maybe the Santa Monica Pier, for the fireworks show they'll have because don't forget, it's the fourth."

At this, Sammy seems to nearly burst with joy, the kid's been an enthusiast for some time now. He gets out of bed with a sudden quickness, and rushes to the washroom. When he's out of the room, Dean lets his cheerful expression go, his shoulders sagging in the process. He wonders how long his father will be gone this time.

†

When they're all in the car and on their way, she actually starts to feel a little excited. She's seen so little of her father since moving to Sunnydale, the idea of an evening with just him and Dawn seems like the balm she desperately needs right now. She even smiles at her sister when they reach the Pier.

They arrive a few hours before the show, when the afternoon Sun is just past its peak, and it's not until they reach the main entrance that her enthusiasm falters rather drastically.

"Buffy, Dawn, this is Ellie. She works in the same building as I do."

Unlike Dawn, she barely manages a grin. Did her father really think she was going to believe that they'd 'accidentally' run into this 'friend' of his? She should have known there'd be an ulterior motive to this family trip.

"Hi!" the littlest Summers replies brightly.

"Nice to meet you." Ellie smiles back.

"Are you here for the fireworks too?" Her father asks then, trying too hard to seem casual.

No doubt he's noticed the scowl starting to form on her face. The blonde nods.

"I was supposed to meet a friend, but she just cancelled on me. Food poisoning. So, I'm heading out."

"You can come with us!" Dawn bursts out.

Buffy's head snaps towards her sister, shocked by the declaration. Where was the kids loyalty? As expected, Dawn looks up at her completely oblivious, smiling and proud of herself.

"I wouldn't want to impose..." Ellie starts to say.

"Of course not!" Her dad replies a little too loudly. "Right girls?"

Dawn shakes her head fiercely side to side, and not wanting to be the only unwelcoming one, she mumbles a no.

As expected, her dad is far too preoccupied with his new date, and her pesky attention seeking sister, to pay any mind to her. Considering she won't be missed, she decides to sneak off when Dawn has both their attentions. She locks eyes with her little sister before she goes, silently asking her to explain her sudden absence when/if it comes up. Dawn rolls her eyes, but nods. Offering up a silent 'Thank you' she takes off.

†

The trip isn't playing out exactly as he originally envisioned, but Sam looks like he's having fun, and for him, that's as good as. They've only just arrived to La La land, and since it's July, Sammy is finally going to have some real summer fun. Sure, he'd planned for their dad to be here too but that was always luck of the draw, and considering there was always a 50/50 percent chance they'd be on the hunt too, he figures he did pretty well overall.

It's late afternoon, and they're at the park on the Santa Monica Pier. Since this trip isn't exactly what you'd call 'basic essentials', he's funding it with his own personal stash, and luckily Sam's into the games more than the rides. So he leaves his little brother to it and mostly pigs out as Sammy plays. And that's how he sees her. He's idly looking around for his next meal when his eyes land on her pleased expression.

She's sauntering in his general direction, a relieved smile on her face. She walks alone, but once or twice she turns back to look behind her, as if making sure she hasn't been found. When it seems the coast is clear, her focus turns to the games near her, most an assortment of props with their bounty of gadgets and prizes in all colours. None truly capture her attention though, and that's when her green eyes catch his.

Since Dean hardly backs down from anything, and because she's looking at him anyway, he offers her a flirtatious grin. She returns the gesture but he detects the sardonic quality of it quite clearly. She looks away, but maybe because she isn't the backing down type either, she continues walking towards him. Turning to make sure Sammy is still happily occupied, which he seems to be considering his focus on the gadget in front of him, he then looks back at the blonde down the way.

She's slightly closer but still, genuinely intrigued by the stand before her, and seems to have forgotten him entirely. Frowning slightly, displeased with this sudden turn of events, he turns back to his little brother.

"Sammy." He says loud enough for the kid to hear.

Once his little brother looks back at him, he passes the youngest Winchester a few more dollars and he adds with a mischievous grin, "Stay here. I'll be right back."

Sam rolls his eyes but nods, clearly getting the implication though he makes no attempt to find Dean's new target, and just returns to the game before him. Satisfied with this response, he heads off towards her.

Otherwise occupied with the guy at the stall, she doesn't notice him approach.

When he's standing beside her he asks, "Game or prize?"

Startled, she snaps towards him and when her eyes are on him, he smiles.

She sort of smirks at him in recognition and replies, "I'm not sure I get the question."

The attendant approaches her then, handing her the appropriate device for the game, in this case, a large hammer. He eyes the weapon and the way she holds it, casual and loose in her right hand, before answering.

"What caught your attention? The game, or the prize?" He clarifies.

"I could ask you the same question."

He chuckles, not missing her amused yet wry expression. It's clear she isn't entirely put off by him, and so with the most debonair look he can muster he replies, "Usually it's a bit of both, but in this case, I'd definitely have to say the prize."

Her response is something in between a scoff and a grin, "Well, I guess I walked myself right into that one."

She turns away from him then, returning her focus to the game she's just paid for. She adjusts her grip on the large red hammer, and steps closer to her target. He adjusts himself so when she turns to look at him, he's still standing within a close enough distance to talk to her.

"You can't fault a guy for seizing the moment." He resumes when her eyes are on him.

Her movements stop, and she smiles, as if she's fallen upon some sense of irony in his statement.

"I suppose you have a point." Sounding defeated, she loosens her grip slightly.

"By your reaction, maybe it wasn't such a good idea after all."

She glances away for a moment, her gaze shifting to the tower and bell ahead of her.

"It was pretty clever," She replies after she turns back grinning, yet her expression nonplussed.

"I'll admit it. But then again, well, I wouldn't call it 'crass'…but it wasn't great."

Then with a shake of her head, and the smirk still on her lips she adds, "I'd suggest using it… never. Really. Never again."

He looks at her curiously, not expecting this kind of banter from her, and deciding to forgo a comeback, he goes straight into introductions.

"I'm Dean," He smirks back at her.

"Buffy."

†

She doesn't reach out to shake his hand and he doesn't move either, so she moves the hammer in her hands instead.

"To answer your question honestly though," she continues so as to fill the empty silence,"It's the prize."

She points to the assortment of winnings, mostly large stuffed animals and a few basketballs.

"My little sister loves Odie, and since I sorta ditched her with my dad & his newest fembot, she might forgive me if I bribe her with a stuffed dog."

"If that's the case, I'd be glad to help you out. I'm pretty good at this."

Undoubtedly insinuating his stronger male physique, and feeling amused for the first time in weeks she extends her arm handing over the mallet, knowing she's going to get the last laugh.

So she only replies, "Show me how it's done."

With a proud smile, he grabs the hammer and positions himself in front of the stand. He takes a glance back behind her, her eyes following his progression. Seeming satisfied, though she can't tell by what, he turns to face her.

"It's all about speed and force."

He raises the mallet, and after a few seconds heaves it down towards the bell. The line of lights chase the puck as it speeds upwards but only a couple of feet from the top, it starts to descend. She tries not to seem too smug when he glances at her once more, looking abashed.

"Lets call that a practice shot."

For a moment, his wisecracker persona seems to slip as he takes a moment to reply, "Yeah, ok."

"I should go next though," She says then, "So I can get a practice shot too."

"It's all yours." With obvious casualness, he passes her the hammer, and takes a step aside.

With a smirk she grabs it, and gripping it firmly, she positions it over her shoulder. "Like this?"

Returning to his previous form, he eyes her up and down, "You're good to go."

She chuckles lightly to herself, for some reason his incessant corny flirtatious behaviour amuses her more than it offends. Luckily, the High Striker isn't much of an attraction at the moment, so other than the attendant, who seems annoyed by how long they're taking, there's no one else waiting, which probably explains why he isn't saying anything about it.

After a second, she turns serious, not wanting to mess this up by overconfidence. Her arms come rushing down, and when mallet makes contact, the lever shudders enough to be noticed, and she realizes then that she may have overcompensated and only hopes the dingy inside doesn't break through the top.

Watching with bated breath, the lights and puck bolt upwards like before only this time the bell rings out when the puck makes contact, and the sound is loud enough for people close by to turn and look. After a few seconds of recognition, the onlookers lose interest.

"Well look at that." She says to him with feign surprise.

She doesn't really give him a chance to say anything as she passes over to the attendant to return the hammer, and claim her prize. He too is surprised, but only barely, he seems more relieved they're done. He gives her the stuffed Odie without another word.

Turning to Dean she smiles coyly, "Thanks for the lesson."

She starts to walk away feeling confident he'll follow step.

Not dissuaded, he quickly turns to his brother, the younger Winchester focused on the kids shooting darts, seemingly having run out of change.

"Sammy!" he yells out as he approaches, and through the din of the crowd somehow he's heard, forcing Sam to leave the group of boys he'd quickly befriended.

"Turned you down, did she?" Sam says when he reaches his side.

He starts walking back towards the stand, his little brother following and keeps his eye trained on her retreating form, helped mostly by the dog sticking out of the purse at her side and bobbing slightly as she moves.

Mussing up Sam's hair, he replies, "Har har. You just don't get women yet, Sammy. They love the chase."

Both grinning and rolling his eyes, he remains quiet as he follows Dean's now faster pace, lagging a few steps behind.

"You know the drill, Sammy."

He takes a quick look at his little brother, just to make sure he's not too far away, and sees the smirk on his face.

"Yeah, yeah Dean. Mouth shut. If spoken to, good qualities only. I got it. I thought today was about family though, remember what you said to dad."

They're only a few feet away from her so he stops and turns to Sam. Their stillness disrupts the herd, but he ignores them.

"What do you want?" He asks seriously.

Sam's grin brightens. "We're still gonna see the show right?"

Dean scoffs but smiles, and pulls the kid under his arm, messing up his hair yet again with his hand. They resume step as he looks out for her.

"That's still the plan Sammy. Only now, maybe we'll have some company. And she's got a little sister."

He wrenches himself free from his big brother's grasp.

"Ok, that's where I draw the line Dean."

As expected, he chuckles in response, only briefly glancing down at him, "Deal."

Sam decides to keep the few steps between them as they catch up with her. With the stuffed dog jutting out on her left, Dean approaches from the right and catches sight of her pleased expression when she sees him.

"I guess since it seems I should be getting the pointers from you, how about I buy you a drink instead?"

Her brows go up at this, in part because she's only sixteen for crying out loud, but also because she sincerely doubts he can even get any.

At her expression he amends, "A coke is obviously what I meant."

She gives him a kind of knowing smile as she slows her steps but keeps moving. Looking at him up close walking beside her, she admits that he is pretty cute in fact, and despite his obvious James Dean impression, there's something sincere in his eyes.

"Make it a corn dog, and you've got a deal." She finally replies.

His lips go up in happy surprise, "Even better."

He turns back to his little brother, motioning him forwards.

As his little brother comes into her view, he adds, " And this is my little brother Sammy."

"Sam."

She smiles at the correction, and though they don't look or seem at all alike, she can already tell that they're close. She glances across at Sam, noting that she's barely a few inches taller than him. His smile is genuine and she can't help but smile back at him.

"Buffy."

"Nice to meet you."

He sounds polite, and feels like a dork for it, glancing over at Dean, seeing the mischievous expression he's familiar with all over his older brother's face.

"Nice to meet you too."

Not one to be left out, and forcing them all to pick up their pace as he moves faster, Dean declares, "And now, corndogs."

She laughs as he goes serious and his eyes focus on finding a place that has what they want, that he doesn't realize he's a couple steps ahead of them.

Now standing next to Sam, she shakes her head a little as she chuckles lightly.

"He seems uh… excited about the corndog."

Sam laughs. "Dean's big on food. Especially if it's fried."

"Isn't everyone?" She asks, sounding partial to the idea.

He glances over at her, his expression playful, "You too?"

She doesn't get a chance to reply as Dean shows up declaring that he's found a place, and in the commotion of getting through the throng of people, the subject is dropped.

"So did you guys ditch your parents too?" She asks casually as they wait in line.

Both going suddenly serious, they share a brief look before Dean answers, "It's just the two of us. Our dad's not really into crowds."

It isn't exactly a lie, he really doesn't, and saying that he's away on business as they usually do might seem odd considering it's a holiday today. Dean glances again over at Sam, hoping she doesn't ask about their mom.

"My dad apparently very much is." She replies rather heavily.

"So that's who you ditched?" Dean asks, grateful she hadn't pressed further.

"He brought a date."

The answer isn't exactly the question he asked, so he looks at his little brother for help. Sam doesn't seem to know either, so neither say anything.

"Overshare, I know. Don't think i'm like daddy's little girl and jealous and all that, cuz i'm not. It's just, we only just got here to visit him for the summer, and he's too busy dating to notice."

It's obvious now that her parents must be divorced and she and her sister are visiting dear old dad for the summer. Unsurprisingly, he gets exactly what she means, it's only that he hadn't expected to feel such a kinship with her that keeps him momentarily silent.

"Dads can be dicks." Sam says all of a sudden, as if he knows all too well of this. Which he does.

His little brother's sudden outburst seems to knock her from her sudden moodiness though, and she laughs at his words.

"You said it." She replies, her tone more than agreeing.

"Which is why _my_ dad, will be paying for the food."

She pulls out a couple of bills from her back pocket and grins. "To be honest I swiped it from him on the way here, just in case I had to ditch."

He grins, surprised once more, she really is a girl after his own heart.

She seems almost apologetic, but when he smiles, she does too.

"Believe me, he can afford it."

They spend the next few minutes in line, and as they wait she's surprised to find that rather than play the tough older sibling act, as she so usually does, Dean seems to enjoy his little brother's company and when he teases, Sam parries right back. There's true affection there, worry even, and it's endearing enough that she seems to overlook his entire cheeseball act. Though she won't entirely deny that his exuberant way of being is more than a little refreshing compared to certain people back home.

So she accepts when Dean asks her to watch the show with them, feeling the most carefree she's felt since waking in that sewer months ago. It's almost dark so they walk and eat as they make their way to the beach to find a good spot to catch the show. Luckily when she catches sight of her Dad, sister and 'Ellie' she ducks out of view just in the nick of time.

They find a spot not too far from her family, and while her dad's date is probably sitting in her lawn chair and she's on the sand, she can't seem to be bothered about it. As the dusk wears out and her slayer senses heighten with the approaching dark, the space between them suddenly feels charged enough so that the actual fireworks are nothing compared with the ones she's feeling inside.

He seems to be feeling it too, as somehow Sam has fallen to the wayside as his eyes are focused on the show ahead of him and their's seem to be catching each other far more often than the flashes in the sky.

Just as the sparks in the sky become smaller and smaller and he knows the show is about to end, before he misses his chance, and Sam loses interest in the fireworks, he keeps her gaze when she steals a glance at him.

He moves in closer, and she does too, when Dawn appears out of nowhere.

"Dad says it's time to go."

They quickly separate, but her little sister isn't even looking at them. She seems irritated she had to walk over here, but her eyes are fixed upwards. She sees her dad in the background and kind of frowns. His back is to the skyline, and even from this distance she can tell he's not pleased.

"Tell him i'm coming." She nudges her sister away and turns back to Dean.

"I guess that means you've gotta go."

She nods, and as she stands, he does too. Sam is still determinedly distracted, possibly on purpose.

"It was fun. Thanks for the corn dog. Say bye to Sam for me."

She smiles over at the kid, not wanting to steal the last moments of the show from him.

With a parting grin to Dean she turns to leave, when he catches her arm, and she half spins back around.

"We're gonna be in town for a while, I'm sure Sam would like to see you again."

He lets go, feeling slightly abashed by his actions. She doesn't seem to notice though, and her lips go up yet again.

"Just Sam?"

Returning the grin he answers, "What can I say? The kid gets attached quick."

Breaking eye contact with him, she rummages through her purse and pulls out a pen. When she finds it, she reaches out for his hand and writes her number on the back of his palm.

"Tomorrow?" He asks, almost eagerly.

"Sure, tell Sam to call me." She replies coyly. Turning around, she leaves smiling.

* * *

A/N: Typically, the title of this fic comes from a poem: XVII (I do not love you...) by Pablo Neruda. Inspired by the idea of this romance taking place between the shadow [Spike] and the soul [Angel]. (Kinda corny, I know). That's me. And this fic.

Next update won't be too long I hope.

Thanks again.


	2. Chapter I

because no one likes a vague **disclaimer:** All main characters belong to both fantasticals Joss Whedon and Eric Kripke.

Sorry this update took so long!

* * *

 **Chapter I**

 **†**

There's something about supper time that seems to remind his father of the fact that Sam is gone, even though they'd hardly ever eaten together, and even when they had, it rarely felt like a family dinner.

The first six months after Sam's departure had been smoother, his father had been desperate to show how ok he was with how things stood now, and had been more easy going as a result. Dean knew it was a façade, but Winchesters never spoke of their feelings so he said nothing.

And for a while they pretty much hunted together. About three months in, John bought himself a truck and bequeathed Dean the Impala, and suddenly they no longer travelled to hunts together. Then he took off. At first for a few days, then it became weeks, and now John hunts on his own, and says he ought to do the same.

"To get some 'experience in the field'," he'd said.

Now they meet up once or twice every few weeks, catch a bad guy together, and at dinner Dean recites his recent hunts and his father gives him tips and bits of advice. And then, he's off with a promise of a phone call for their next meet up.

At first, Dean pretty much took the time off and drove the Impala to any place he'd ever wanted to go. Then his father had suggested he use the time to hone his skills instead. It hadn't sounded like an order, but it sure as hell felt like it, and the next time his dad had gone off, he began searching for his first case. He chose one that sounded like a spirit, thinking it'd be an easy start.

Of course, he'd been wrong, and had to take a week off to recover. And he realized then that digging up a grave alone wasn't the same as digging with two others.

On this particular meet, John had been difficult all through the hunt. For once, Dean was looking forward to the send off after dinner. Through the entire meal John had been terse, pushing Dean for information on his recent excursions.

Dean sensed his father was trying to fish for information on Sam, thinking that perhaps he'd come in contact with his younger brother in their time apart. But there was nothing to tell because Sam hadn't only walked away from their dad after all.

It's not until dinner is over when John slides over a folded sheet of newspaper and says, "I came across this today."

Reaching for the paper he unfolds it and notices that its the front page of this small town's paper.

'MISSING GIRL, 16, MURDERED'

Reading further, he finds out that early yesterday morning at the town's small bus depot, the girl's body had been found in the luggage compartment of a bus that'd recently been taken out of service. Hours later it was confirmed by officials to be the body of teen Sandra Owens, she'd been reported missing two months prior.

"You think it's a case?" He immediately asks his father.

He's not entirely convinced since there's no report of her being anything other than stabbed (not that they'd report gruesome details though), and she seems to have been stuffed away, which to him seems more like the calling card of a human.

"Why do you think I gave you the paper Dean?"

His father's tone is derisive, and he tries hard to remember that his dad's attitude isn't about him so much as it about trying to hide what he really feels.

"Check it out. If it is a case, deal with it. If not, then it's not. Better safe then sorry, don't you think?"

"Yes Sir." He replies without contempt, sounding only compliant.

John looks at him for a moment, his expression almost weary, then pulls out his wallet and lays a couple of bills on the table.

"Let me know what you find out." He replies before he stands.

"Will do."

Dean stands too, and reaches out to shake his father's hand. This action seems to loosen something in his dad, because he pulls Dean into a haphazard hug.

After the embrace, John shares one last look at his son, his lips turned up in a grin, though it hardly resembles what a smile is supposed to look like.

"Be careful, Dean."

After his father leaves town, he does as requested and checks out the case. As usual, the local PD find his youth peculiar, but in any case they believe his position with the State's Sheriff department, and surrender the information.

The victim had in fact only been stabbed and then dumped, but there'd been no evidence left of her attacker, and no murder weapon. As for the girl, she was last seen departing her friend's house, and her only relation to the station is that she would have walked past it to get to her home.

He checks the bus depot, but after running the EMF and asking around, he finds nothing strange about the place. He talks to the girl's friends and family, but she was well liked and 'normal', and no one seems to know anything of any help.

It doesn't all add up, but the truth is, as far as it being his kind of case, the chances seem slim to none. He checks out a few other things, but nothing pans out and he ends up leaving town a couple of days later, when he finds a case in a small town in Missouri.

 **†**

Cleveland turns out to be a lot different than expected. As they made their trek in a dingy old school bus, leaving Sunnydale behind felt like the hardest part of starting anew. For the past seven years of her life it'd been her responsibility; she protected it through blood, sweat and tears, and now it's gone. And while Cleveland lies over its very own mouth of hell, the responsibility doesn't feel like it belongs to her.

"We can't afford to rent an apartment Buffy. We barely have enough means for the school grounds."

Looking over, she can see the expression on her little sister's face as she speaks, but thankfully Dawn turns away and misses the roll of Buffy's eyes at her reply. This is basically the only alone time they have these days, and she's not going to drop the issue yet. Not since she's finally brought it up.

It's been a few months now, and the hardest part had actually been finding a place to house the crowds of girls they'd eventually assemble here. It took every connection Giles had left, and a bit of magic from Willow to get it, but they're mostly self-sustainable now, at least in the fundamental ways.

The abandoned building they bought is mostly paid for (thanks to various contributions, one of them Angel himself), most of the food they grow it (Willow was key in this), and the girls get part-time jobs to contribute. Only the (extended version) Scoobies, Faith and herself are exempt in this; mainly because they don't really have the time.

Giles is trying to rebuild the Watcher's Council, with Dawn as a kind of understudy to him. As a decoy, Andrew is in Italy with a couple of girls who kind of resemble her, and Xander is somewhere off with a gang of slayers, looking for more like them. Willow's barely around, she travels looking for potential allies, with Kennedy in tow as 'protection'.

"That's why I'm going to get a job first."

At this, Dawn sits right up, turning on her beside light as she does so.

"You're joking right? With what time?" She says with obvious sarcasm.

Faith and her train and lead the girls, and as only two, it's a big job. While it's true she barely has the time, she's already thought of something to remedy this.

"I was thinking that maybe it's time to promote some of the others, like Rona, Vi, and Kennedy."

"Kennedy is barely here as it is. She's always off with Willow."

"Ok fine, not Kennedy. But the others."

"They've only just become Slayers Buffy. It's a lot of responsibility to put on them."

She tries not to bring up the fact that she once held the fate of the world on her own, and that this is basically babysitting a group of unruly teenagers and semi-adults.

Instead, she says, "They faced the biggest apocalypse there's ever been, and survived. I think they've proved they're more than capable."

Dawn doesn't argue, instead she seems to be contemplating the idea.

"Why do you want to leave Buffy?" She ends up asking.

She'd expected this question, but hadn't figured out a reply, thinking she'd know what to say when it finally came time. Now that is has, it takes her a few moments to find the right words.

"I don't want to leave you. It'd be great if you wanted to come with, but I'll understand if you don't. And i'll still be around, train, and everything, maybe just a little less."

Her little sister continues to gape at her, and Buffy can tell she isn't satisfied with this response.

"I just- I need my space Dawn."

She wants to say 'i'm not really needed here', but doesn't. Not because it's not true, but exactly because it is.

After they'd arrived in Cleveland, things hadn't just fallen back into old routines. For one, it was clear that she wasn't the sole leader anymore; they make decisions as a group now and though at times it makes her feel like they don't trust her judgement, she mostly feels relieved the burden isn't only on her shoulders anymore.

For another, Faith is someone she, and the others, can trust. She's no longer the same tormented girl; she's made peace with her past, and now seems to be trying to atone for it. She doesn't play the tough girl act, or the know-it-all, and consequently the Scoobies, and slayers flock to her just as they once had to Buffy. So with Faith basically leading here, at least in Head Slayer capacity, training is pretty much all she really does these days.

Dawn opens her mouth to respond, but something about her expression forces Buffy to say first, "I'll get a place close by. It won't be all that different really."

Seemingly resigned to the idea, her sister finally speaks.

"If it's what you want, Buffy. I mean, I get it, I do. But I don't think I'll be-"

"It's still going to take some time before I actually leave of course," Buffy interrupts.

"But I wanted you to know, in case you wanna come with. You don't have to say anything now. Just think about it."

She really did want Dawn to move with her, but even before she'd started to say it, Buffy already knew it wasn't going to happen. For weeks, it'd been obvious to her that Giles was soon on his way out even though he'd never said so directly. And Dawn, well she'd gotten close to him ever since they'd set up shop here. She's learning from him, and Buffy knows that if Giles leaves for England as he's bound to do, Dawn will follow.

"I'll think about it."Her sister finally replies.

She reaches out to shut the light off once more, clearly done with the conversation. Once she does so, she lies back and Buffy does the same, a kind of smile on her face.

Then out of the darkness, Dawn adds, "You should tell the others. Especially Faith."

As it turns out, the only person who has any issue with her leaving is Dawn. When she tells Faith, she's entirely unfazed about it, the girls relish in the promotion, and even Giles seems to be ok with it.

She finds a job waitressing at a nearby cafe. It's a small space, and she works with just a few other people, but the place is popular, so the day goes by fast and she makes pretty decent tips. It only ends up taking her a couple of months to save enough to get her own place, and two weeks after that to find the right one for her, though she still has to wait for the new month before she can move in.

Soon enough, she begins spending time with her co-workers outside of work, her time away from the Scoobies growing and her life is starting to feel… different. Almost as if it finally belongs to her.

There've only been a handful of times in her life when she actually felt like a normal girl, among them the 15 years before she'd been called, the day Angel became human (and she only found out about that after she'd died), and that summer.

She remembers him then, how she forgot about Angel when she was with him, and even though she barely remembers what he looks like, it was still the most normal relationship- _fling_ , she's ever had.

 **†**

The case in Missouri turns out to be a bust, but the night before he's about to leave, surprisingly enough, his father calls.

"I thought I asked you to let me know what you found out. About the girl."

The tone isn't pleasant, and while he doesn't expect his father to ever be cheerful exactly, he doesn't appreciate this kind of greeting. "If there was something to tell, I would have."

His father is silent for a long moment, then he asks, "you're sure?" He's more surprised at the interest then the gentle tone of his dad's voice at the question, so he only addresses that.

"Positive. She hadn't been kidnapped after all. Time of death was around the time she'd been reported missing. She was walking home from a friend's house when she was stabbed, died from the wound, and dumped in the nearby bus depot. No suspects, but no foul play either."

There's another long silence, and Dean decides to just wait his dad out. Eventually, he does.

"Are you on a case now?"

Dean doesn't want to admit that he isn't, especially since this last hunt was a dud, so he replies, "Just on my way out of one."

After he says it, he only hopes his father doesn't press for more details, as he so often does. Thankfully, he doesn't.

"I've got one for you, if you're up for it." It sounds like a challenge more than an offer, and there's little he can do to avoid stepping up to it.

"Where is it?" He asks, hoping at least that it's somewhere hot.

"Cleveland."

* * *

a/n: So I don't love this chapter, but I've been withholding for too long so here it is. It was harder than I realized to figure out where I wanted to start, and as you can tell, the meet up is coming. I wanted to save that for when I have more time to do it justice. But hopefully it'll be soon.

A big thanks to everyone following and favouriting this story! I truly appreciate it.


	3. Chapter II

because no one likes a vague **disclaimer:** All main characters belong to both fantasticals Joss Whedon and Eric Kripke.

Warning: Because this is truly a WIP, updates won't always be the fastest, but they will eventually come. Sorry about that.

Thanks for reading.

* * *

 **Chapter II**

 **†**

Moving into her new place is no problem, especially considering she barely has anything to move besides the bed and her few possessions. The apartment is a bachelor so the small space manages to mask the emptiness quite effectively.

The first night she basically spends it hunting outdoors, but eventually Dawn's emptiness fades away and she begins relishing in the new silence of her small home. She still spends a lot of her time at the school, and runs patrols for groups of learning slayers, so her apartment remains mostly Scooby-free, except for Dawn who sometimes visits.

On her nights off when she's not working and she has nothing planned, she hunts on her own but with the pulse of hell seemingly more faint here, sometimes her patrols turn out as just walks. Tonight it seems to be going that way, but she doesn't necessarily mind since her thoughts are elsewhere.

When her little sister had come over for dinner this evening, she'd found out that at one of those big meetings Willow orchestrated that she never attended, Giles had finally declared his intention of returning to England. She had long since known that Dawn would want to go with him, what Buffy hadn't predicted was that Giles himself would ask her to accompany him, as an official 'understudy' in the new Watcher's Council he was setting up.

She tried hard to hide her disappointment when Dawn had shown her own excitement at the idea, but managed to keep her mouth shut tight when her sister said she planned on going. She had no right to tell her not to go, Dawn was no longer a child and Buffy knew there was little she could say to change her mind, in any case.

"You could come with us Buffy." Her sister had said shortly after that.

For a brief moment, she'd considered it. She imagined herself roaming the streets of London, and Dawn perfectly coifed as a watcher in training, and for a second, it seemed to work. But then she remembered, what was she going to do there? She didn't expect to be of much help in Giles' plans, and she really had no place in the group of slayers set up in London, and what options did that exactly give her?

"Think about it." Dawn had said then.

It was the same sort of agreement she'd proposed when she had planned on moving, so she said nothing and Dawn didn't push. It did however, loom over them until her sister left, and she knew that eventually she'd have to give Dawn a proper answer. And here she is, trying to find the right way to tell her sister she has no plans on leaving Cleveland anytime soon.

Setting her thoughts aside she takes a look around and realizes that she's coming close to her last stop for the night. It's the cemetery closest to her home and though it's not far off she decides she's not up for it, and opts to head home instead. Considering the way the night has played out, she doubts she'd find anything anyway.

She's about to turn right, away from the cemetery and towards her apartment, when she gets this strange sensation. She's not sure what exactly it is (though the odds seem high that it'll turn out to be a vampire), so she ends up going to the graveyard, just in case. As she gets closer, the feeling gets stronger, and in moments she's face to face with her enemy, and she resents how in tune she is to him, and how out of sync she feels with her own family.

She dispatches of the vamp easily enough, but the feeling doesn't go away, so she continues to patrol wary, her defences high.

And that's when she sees him.

 **†**

The road to Cleveland is short, and though he is grateful for that, he finds himself still wishing his father had sent him somewhere sunny, where he might have a little fun for once. These days he's on his own a lot, and although he has hunts with his father and sometimes with other hunters as well, he's still starting to feel the heaviness of the lone road.

He reaches the city's limits by midday, and a few hours later he settles into his motel room going over the reports handed over by the local pd. This time, it is one of those run-of-the-mill spirits (as much as they can be anyway), and though he takes a few licks in his midnight scope of the place, he finds the culprit, and then his grave, and standing inside the hole, he watches the embers as the fire dies out, taking a moment before reaching to close the coffin once it's out.

"Died 1992. I think you'll find she's way past her expiration date." A voice from above says suddenly, and by the pitch of it, he knows it's a woman.

The first thing that comes to mind is police, so he turns slowly.

"There's an explanation here." He starts to say but trails off as he catches sight of the girl looming over him.

And though it's been years, he instantly recognizes her. She's not looking at him, but at the things at his side, like the salt and lighter fluid next to the grave.

Without looking at him she answers, "I'd _really_ like to hear it," with emphasis.

He doesn't speak, just waits for her to finally look back at him.

When she finally catches his eyes, she blurts out, "Holy shit."

She thought she'd forgotten him, but now that he's in front of her, his hair trim and kept and his jacket leather and rugged, she immediately recognizes him. Especially when she glances down at his chest and sees the ever present horned pendant hanging from his neck.

"It's Dean, actually." He jokes.

She manages to find her composure and just smirks at him, but she doesn't say anything in response. After a few moments of silence, her brows kind of go up and she finally speaks.

"So you were about to explain?" She says, motioning to him still inside the grave.

This time he smiles, "Nice to see you too."

He lifts himself up and out with his hands, and she tries hard not to stare at the movements of his body, so she fidgets, running her hand through her hair before she crosses her arms.

"It's hard to explain." He adds after he's standing before her.

"Try me." She replies, her voice dead serious.

His lips curve upward at her expression, and feeling the familiarity of her determination, he decides to come clean.

"Seeing as how we have a little history you and I, I'll tell you the truth. Not that you'll believe me."

"You're stalling." She responds, getting impatient.

Grinning at her retort he finally tells her, "To put it plainly, burning the bones of a vengeful spirit."

Instead of the disbelief he expects, she sort of wanes at him, and goes silent.

"By your reaction, i'm beginning to think maybe you believe me after all."

Her silence gives him a chance to put together the things his initial shock had blocked out, like the fact that she was even in the cemetery to begin with, standing before him this late at night, not to mention the question she'd asked of him.

"What are you doing in a cemetery this late anyway?" He eventually inquires.

For her part, his answer had quickly cleared things up. She'd heard of that method of dispatching with the tormented, and immediately figured out exactly who he was. She ignores his question and asks one of her own.

"So you're not creating a zombie girlfriend then? I just need to be clear about that."

She watches his reaction, and feels relieved at the sour expression forming on his face.

"What? Ew. No. Why would you…"

His voice trails off and she knows he's finally pieced it together.

"Are you a hunter?" He asks instead.

Evidently, he hasn't, and she's momentarily surprised her gang of slayers still don't seem to be common knowledge among those in her world.

"You could say that." She replies, hoping the vagueness of her statement goes unnoticed.

He's towering over her now, standing so close she can smell the scent of salt and fire on him.

"Now that we've cleared that all up, what are you doing in these parts?"

He moves in closer and she's unsure of what he's doing so she just freezes. He's inches away when he reaches past her, then with a smile he grabs the shovel leaning against the tree just behind her. Finally realizing this, she awkwardly moves out of the way, stepping over to the side.

"Last I remember you were living somewhere outside of Los Angeles." He continues, still grinning.

Careful not to overshare she just shrugs and replies simply, "I moved."

He turns away from her seemingly satisfied with this response, and begins pilling the dirt back over the casket, and she just watches his movements mesmerized.

"So how are- how long have you been a hunter?" He asks suddenly, glancing over at her.

She smirks at his obvious reshaping of question, and deciding the measure of her toughness is a safer subject than how long she's been doing this job she replies, "Don't be fooled by my size. I'm pretty spry, and I train hard. I bet I could kick your ass."

He stops shovelling for a moment and turns to her. He eyes her up and down for a brief moment before speaking.

"You're definitely welcome to."

Her cheeks burn at his words, and she smirks, "I won't go easy on you."

Still looking at her he answers, "Believe me I wouldn't want you to."

He's smouldering her with charm, and though he's covered in a layer of grime and dirt, it's working more than she expected it to.

"I don't think you'll enjoy it as much as you seem to think you will." She fights back, her tone humorous considering he really has no idea how right she is.

He smirks, "I guess we'll just have to wait and see. I'm almost done here."

He turns back to his task, a bit more urgency in his movements.

"Oh please." She scoffs, half smiling.

He returns the expression, and keeps replacing the dirt over the grave. She uses the moment to survey the streets visible in the distance.

"You still driving the Impala?" She asks after a few seconds with a faraway expression.

He turns to her once more, and a mischievous grin finds its way onto his face, "You know it."

When she looks over at him, and finds his eyes already upon her and sees his expression, she feels her cheeks burn with the knowledge that they're both undoubtedly thinking about the same thing.

"How's Sam doing?" She inquires, trying to change the subject.

It definitely works; his demeanour shifts then, and he turns away from her at the question, shovelling the dirt once more. He does a few piles before finally answering her.

"He's away. At college." He replies, his voice forcefully casual, and his eyes determinedly off hers.

At his reaction, everything becomes clear. After all, how well she understands that sort of situation, both Sam's need for a normal life, and Dean's duty to the 'family business'. He'd said that a few times that summer, and it never made sense to her, not until this moment.

Sensing it's not a subject he's interested in getting into, she abruptly changes the topic, "How long have you been in town?"

He glances over at her, and the tension he'd built seems to fade when he answers, "A few days."

He finally seems to be done, and after a few pats on the earth, packing the dirt, he turns to her.

"So." She kind of smiles, unsure of what to say next.

"So."He grins back. "You live close by?"

She barely contains a half-scoff half-chuckle, and just says, "Um-"

He reaches down for the items still lying about and replies, lips still upturned, "I'm at this motel outside of the city, just south of here, maybe you know it-"

"Let me guess." She interrupts, "the Kings Inn, just off the I-80."

Truthfully when she'd first come across it on one of her training patrols, it'd actually reminded her of him.

"Fitting, don't you think?"

He looks around to make sure he hasn't missed anything, and then turns back to her ready to ask her to follow him back to the Impala, but she speaks first.

"Predictable more like." She kind of beams at him, then continues, "Need some help with all that?"

He doesn't banter back at her teasing, just says, "Why not?" as he passes her the shovel. He expects her arm to droop a bit with the weight but it doesn't, and since he'd been hoping it'd serve as some kind of retribution and it hasn't, he feels kind of let down by it.

"The Impala's this way." He says simply, missing the small smirk that crosses her face at his reaction.

The rest of their walk passes in silence, and its not until they actually reach the Impala when the sight of it manages to spark her nostalgia.

"It looks exactly the same." She says fondly.

His voice proud, he replies, "Course she does."

She chuckles, "You take real good care of _her_ , don't you?"

He manages to seem not too abashed at her words, he just kind of shrugs it off and slides his hand into his pocket reaching for the keys. He opens the trunk and its inner compartment, and her eyes go wide, her teasing manner suddenly gone.

Seeing her reaction when he turns to her he's suddenly surprised himself. She seems shocked as she kind of gapes at the items in his trunk. Surely she has her own collection of weapons, so why the reaction?

"What is it?" He asks without inflection.

"Oh nothing, I just wasn't expecting-" She suddenly pauses.

"What, such a large arsenal?" He says almost playfully.

Buffy for her part, had gotten lost into the past with the sight of that car, and they were just that summer fling again. So when the array of weapons and christian paraphernalia come into view, even though she hadn't completely forgotten their hunter charade, it takes a moment for the present to catch up with her. She loses the shock, and smiles instead.

"No."

He beams.

"Such a small one." She banters back.

He kind of deflates, and lowers the cover.

"I've seen worse though." She adds, obviously trying to make him feel better.

And truth be told, his collection wasn't bad, it was better in fact than the small trunk she had in her equally small apartment. But then again, how much arsenal did a girl like her actually need? More often than not, she was weapon enough.

"Glad to see you haven't changed much." He says then, as he reaches for the shovel still in her hands.

Passing it to him, she can't help but ask, "What's that supposed to mean?"

He slides the spade into the back, and closes the trunk before answering.

"Let's just say, i've missed that sharp tongue of yours."

He's finding his charming old self again, and his brows kind of go up after he speaks, and she blushes.

"Well you _definitely_ have not changed at _all_." She says with a disbelieving grin.

He moves past her towards his side of the car, "So, where to now?" He asks as he opens the door.

"We could head back to your place." He adds so casually she can sense the hidden mischief in his voice.

She smirks at him, and though she's tempted to tell him yes, she doesn't.

"There's a pub nearby. How about we go get a drink first?"

It's not a clear answer, and that's good enough for him.

He smiles, "Not a bad place to start."

He moves to get in, but when he sees that she doesn't, he asks, "You coming?"

"We could walk," She replies. "It's not far."

"Yeah, but then i'd have to come back for the car, and seeing as how I just desecrated a grave, that might not be a good idea."

"Right." She answers, feeling stupid.

For some reason, she's trying to avoid getting into _that_ car, probably because she knows exactly what will happen when she does. But she moves to the passenger side and watches him get in, and reach over to pull the lock open. Once she's sitting inside, the smell and sensation of leather surrounds her; as the familiar purr of the engine and the sudden injection of classic rock fills the air, she knows she'd been right.

"So where to?" He asks turning to her, the familiar lilt in his voice the last straw, and she feels the weary Buffy of late, almost wilt away.

"For now, just head towards your motel."

"My place it is." He replies heavily, shifting the car into movement.

"I just meant it's nearby, we're not going to your 'place'."

He smirks, a goofy expression of surprise on his face, "I thought I'd drop off the Impala, what did you think I meant?"

"Right." She only says half grinning, seemingly not entirely convinced by his words.

He doesn't say anything in response, just kind of flashes her a bright smile, and focuses on the road ahead of him. And though the scenery is hardly the same, after a few seconds of nothing but Led Zeppelin playing in the background, and him sitting in the driver's seat, she can't help the memories that flash through her mind, and it's like she's sixteen all over again.

* * *

A/N:

So I must say, I truly enjoyed writing that. I just hope I did them justice. What did you guys think?

Thanks again for following and reviewing and everything!

I'll try to update soon.


	4. Summer Sun, Something's Begun

because nobody likes a vague **disclaimer:** All characters belong to the fantastical Joss Whedon and Eric Kripke.

So I'm not in love with this chapter, but i've withheld for far too long. Sorry about that.

Thanks again.

* * *

 _Summer 1997_

Her father doesn't scold her for leaving until after Ellie departs in her own car and they get into his.

"I thought we were past all the running around, Buffy." He says passively, glancing at her before he backs the car out of the parking spot.

She rolls her eyes after he turns to look back and mumbles softly, "And I thought it was a family outing."

Luckily he's too busy focusing on navigating out that he doesn't hear her response.

"We are." She eventually says aloud.

And then because she just can't help it, she adds, "You were busy anyways."

He's out of the space, and with his foot on the brake he shifts back to drive, and looks at her once more, his expression slightly abashed.

"Still-just let me know next time will you?"

"Fine." she sulks back.

He puts the car back into motion, and keeps his eyes on the road.

"Who's the boy?" He asks all of a sudden.

Surprised, it's her who turns first.

"Not someone you just met I hope?" He asks before looking at her, his tone passive and self righteous once more.

She can't but feel offended by the question, and so as to give him nothing to go on she replies, "No. It was Billy Fordham. I ran into him at the Pier."

It's not like he's ever really met any of her friends anyway, and her mom always spoke fondly of Ford, back when her parents were together.

"Oh." He replies, seemingly satisfied with this response.

The car's quiet a moment, issues finally resolved, when Dawn suddenly speaks up.

"I believe you have something for me?"

Buffy kind of chuckles, and pulls the stuffed dog out of her purse, and hands it back, holding it in between the two front seats. Her sister grabs it quickly.

"How'd you win it?" Dawn asks.

She smiles brightly mostly to herself, "I beat a boy for it."

 **†**

 _Buffy Summers_

 _555-3647_

The trek back to their crappy motel is less than pleasant, but Dean barely notices. He keeps looking back down at the numbers looped across his palm, so as to make sure they don't smudge. It's not something he really needs to do since he pretty much has them memorized already, but the bubbly print reminds him of their impromptu evening together and he can't help it.

"You really like her, don't you Dean?"

His little brother's voice is not so much teasing as it is surprised, and he can't help but feel grateful Sammy had waited for them to get off the bus before asking this question. Feeling vulnerable at this comment, he does the only thing he knows how do to.

"Oh come on Sammy!" He jibes happily,"We're on vacation!"

With a smirk on his face, he nudges his brother suggestively, and says, "Gotta enjoy the perks."

Sammy, as expected, seems to almost blanche at the innuendo.

"Jeez Dean. I get it. Let's drop it."

The youngest Winchester picks up step, and the subject is promptly abandoned, just as he'd hoped. But he doesn't take another glance at his hand as they walk back to the motel. As expected, the parking spot in front of their rental is vacant, and Sammy doesn't even seem to notice as he enters the room before his brother.

"Aren't you going to copy her number down?" He asks once inside.

Dean is already plopped on his bed, channel surfing, her info seemingly forgotten as he cradles the remote in his hand.

"You really like her, don't you Sammy?" Dean reiterates, using his brother's exact words.

"Har har." Sam sneers at him, taking a spot on his own bed.

Truth is, Sam did in fact, like her. Not in that way of course, but she'd been nice, and she smiled a whole lot. Most of the girls Dean tended to pick up, pretty much ignored him, not that he really wanted to get to know them. A lot of the time he had to tag along, and they were so good at pretending he didn't exist that sometimes even Dean forgot he was there. More than once, he'd nearly been left behind.

"She's not like the girls you usually date." He answers after he settles back.

"No, she's not. But then again, we're not dating. All I have is a number."

He chooses a channel, and puts the remote down as he slides his legs off the bed, reaching for the pad and pen sitting on the stand between them. He takes a long glance at the numbers written on his palm, then copies them down in his own sharp writing.

"Don't you always say that the number is the hardest part?"

He's not sure whether Sam is trying to get under his skin or is just genuinely curious, so he gives his brother a dubious look as he puts the pen down and moves back into his previous position.

"She's not just a prize Sammy." He says seriously.

Sam scoffs in amusement, clearly surprised by this reply.

"She's a local. If we play our cards right, we'll get a free tour of the city." His voice is casual, unaffected.

Sam chuckles at this, "My big brother, always making sacrifices for the greater good."

"And you get to reap the rewards Sammy."

 **†**

The call comes in around noon. Luckily her dad is outside tending his pool so it's her who answers the phone.

"Hello. May I speak with Buffy please?"

He sounds formal, and since it seems so unlike the charmer she met the day before, she kind of chuckles.

"It's me Dean." She says lightly.

"Oh, hey." He answers, his voice suddenly casual.

"I see you're a man of your word."

She can hear the pleased tone in her words, and she's grateful to be alone in the house. With her dad outside and Dawn at a birthday party, she's free to speak as she pleases.

"The thing about us Winchesters, if we say it, we mean it."

"Us Summers' girls are the same, only we call it being stubborn."

She's teasing him, and she's not sure why that keeps happening, but she can't seem to help it.

He laughs, "Well, you're not wrong, so we have that in common then. That should be interesting."

"I guess we'll find out soon, won't we?"

She's suddenly highly aware of her blatantly flirtatious manner, and tries her best to reign it in, so she doesn't end up making a fool of herself.

"How about in an hour or so?" He replies her question with one of his own.

She's not exactly surprised by his invitation, but usually when guys asked her on a date it rarely meant within the hour. She hadn't just gotten up, but she hadn't exactly dressed for the day yet either.

She did however, feel up to meeting him in an hour, so she stands, and says, "Where?"

"Sam and I are were thinking about making our way downtown. Maybe do a little sight-seeing. You in?"

She'd already been expecting Sam to be there, in fact it seemed obvious they spent most of their time together. Last night when she'd brought up their parents, they'd both gone oddly stiff, and she knew it was best to avoid questions. Instead, she'd made a fool of herself babbling about her own dad (and the thought of it made her cringe). But it'd worked, the tension was gone after that.

She moves out of the living room before answering, "Well that depends."

"On?" He asks lightly.

"If you can give me a little longer than an hour. My dad doesn't exactly live downtown."

He didn't exactly live very far away either, but Dean didn't know that. As she makes her way up the stairs, taking the cordless with her to the room she shares with Dawn, he answers.

"Well that's no problem blondie. Let's call it two, give you some time to doll up."

It's obvious he means that as a joke, but he's not wrong after all and not wanting him to realize that, she says cheekily, "Setting the sexist terms aside, I'm 'doll' enough, believe me. Let's be honest, I'm not sure you could handle more."

"I'd definitely love to try though." He flirts back.

 **†**

They set on meeting in front of Grauman's Chinese Theatre at around 2:00, and though she does get 'dolled up', thanks to their conversation, the look is minimal. She takes a quick shower and blowdries her hair, adding only a little mascara to her lashes and some pink gloss to her lips. Since the plan is to basically tour L.A. she puts on a pair of jean shorts, a black high neck halter tank and a pair of floral Keds her dad just bought her.

Just before she's about to walk out the door, she remembers to tell her dad where she's going, as per their agreement. He doesn't seem entirely pleased about the idea, and decides she needs to be home by eight.

"I'm sixteen years old." She counters back, clearly exasperated by his overly protective act.

"Exactly. You're only sixteen years old. I don't like the idea of you wandering the city streets after dark. It's not safe."

She doesn't let up, "I won't be alone."

"I don't consider a group of girls much protection." He says condescendingly.

She thinks about addressing his macho opinion, and correcting his confusion but decides against it. With his way of thinking, odds are he'd be more distressed finding out she planned on meeting a boy. So she leaves it at that.

"I'll be home at eight." She replies, her tone resigned.

He stops suddenly what he's doing, looking up from the pool to her and grins. He doesn't say anything, just puts the leaf rake down and moves towards her. Once he's standing before her, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet. Realizing what he's doing she says nothing about the fact that he has his wallet tucked into his light jersey 'pool cleaning' shorts.

He passes her a fifty and says, "Just in case you need it."

This time she smiles, and reaches for the bill.

"Thanks dad."

"How are you getting home?" He asks, just before she grabs the money.

"I'll probably get a ride back with one of the… girls."

"Fine. But if you need a ride, just call me."

She wanted to feel flattered at all his consideration, but she can't help but feel annoyed by it. She's the slayer after all, she's more than capable of taking care of herself. She'd hardly seen, let alone spoken to him at all this past year, where was all this concern then?

"Fine." She answers back.

She knows that's not going to happen, but it's easier to just agree.

"Be careful." He says semi-sternly.

She wants to roll her eyes but doesn't, just nods her head instead.

"Have fun cleaning the pool." She's joking but she's also half serious, considering it's the kind of remark he should be giving her.

He seems to realize this as he replies with a bright grin, "You too."

She manages something of a smile, and turns to leave, just as he turns back to said body of water. When she reaches the screen door she looks back to say goodbye and sees his attention is already back on the pool, and no longer on her. She leaves without another word.

 **†**

He ends up spending more than a few extra minutes on his hair, so when Sam says teasingly, "You look fine," he's properly abashed at the notice, and he loses all interest in his appearance.

"Let's go." He answers seriously, leaving the bathroom mirror behind.

They reach downtown long before their meet-up time, so they get off the bus a few stops earlier than their destination, and walk the rest of the way there. They stop at a cafe where Dean gets a coffee and a pastry and Sam a breakfast smoothie.

They're sitting on the bench outside to enjoy their late morning snack, when his little brother asks, "What's gonna happen when dad gets back?"

Neither of them had mentioned their father, not since the previous morning. It wasn't easy not having their dad around, especially when they'd just been dropped off in a new town. Dean of course, dutifully took his absence in stride, but Sam was another story. So, sometimes they just didn't speak of him. Somehow, avoiding his name made it easier.

"What always happens Sam." He replies steadily.

He has an idea why his brother is asking this question, but he doesn't address it. As if he can smell it from where he's sitting, he makes a face at Sam's beverage and instead asks, "Are you almost done that sad excuse of a milkshake?"

The distraction works.

"Oh come off it. It's fruit and yoghurt, not boiled brussels sprouts," Sam replies.

"To me, there's barely a difference."

Sam laughs, "That's why you're gonna get a heart attack at 40."

"At least i'll be able to say I enjoyed my life," He jokes back.

 **†**

It's not until she's on the subway that she starts to wonder if maybe she ought to have 'dolled up' a bit more. She'd been confident of her look, that is until she started getting closer to the city, and she began to feel underdressed, at least compared to the other girls her age, boarding and de-boarding around her. So when she finally meets up with them, she's not her usual bubbly confident self, that is, not until she catches his eye. This time she sees him first, and when their gazes connect, she can't help but grin at the dumbstruck look on his face.

"Hey." She says softly to them both.

He's not sure if it's because the time he'd spent with her was when the moon was at its peak, but if he thought her easy on the eye last night, looking at her now she almost seems to glow under the bright rays of the Sun.

"Hey." He replies, unable to produce much more.

It goes quiet for a moment, and the only one who feels uncomfortable is Sam, as if he's interrupting a private moment between the two. So he kind of clears his throat, and throws out a jovial, "Hey Buffy" to remind them that he's still there, in third wheel mode. Not to mention, in an effort to diffuse the intensity of their reunion.

"Hey Sam." She answers in a friendly tone, breaking eye contact with his older brother.

"Sorry I left without saying goodbye last night. My dad found me, and I had to jet. Besides, I figured we'd be seeing each other soon."

She shoots Dean a knowing grin, as if there's some hidden context in her words, and his brother smiles back, and because he has no clue what this is all about he only says, "me too."

"Did you enjoy the show last night?"

"I did. Biggest show I've seen yet."

He sounds enthused, and she remembers his apt attention on the sky the day before, and its clear he's a fan.

"What about you?" She asks Dean then, remembering that he'd barely looked up the entire evening.

The older Winchester seems to have finally found his voice and replies, "I definitely enjoyed what I saw, that's for sure."

There's tons of innuendo laced in his voice, and she raises a brow and smirks at him, but otherwise doesn't address him.

"He never stops does he?" She asks Sam instead.

"If you think that's bad, you're in for a long day."

Dean seems properly offended at their jibes, particularly Sam's, but as he opens his mouth to speak, she does first.

With a shrug she says, "Meh. I'm pretty used to it actually."

He seems surprised by this comment.

"How's that exactly?"

She smirks at him.

"My friend Xander doesn't know when to quit either."

She throws out the mention to see how he'll react and she's not disappointed. He seems to falter for a quick second, and though she isn't lying, Xander isn't exactly the one to be jealous of.

Cracking a smile as he finds his composure once more he replies,"Who would?"

For a brief moment she thinks of the one who's done nothing but quit, however the thought of him quickly fades as she takes in Dean's saucy expression.

"Not that I don't appreciate the compliment, but how about you start checking out the tourist attractions instead?"

His grin gets wider, and Sam groans.

"Please don't Dean."

Ignoring his little brother, he replies, "I thought I was."

This time she grins with real mirth as she gently shakes her head.

"Well this beauty spot is now closed to visitors, thanks to an overeager sightseer."

He chuckles, "I'll try back later."

He does in fact drop the cheeseball act for the next few hours, as they roam Hollywood Boulevard. After Grauman's they check out some of the stars on the walk of fame, and she discovers that he's something of a film geek. Sam on the other hand, hardly seems interested in any of it.

"Anything specific you wanna see Sam?" she asks as Dean stops to check his map.

He shrugs, and replies, "Not really. Not around here anyway."

And then, before she has a chance to jump to obvious conclusions that'll lead to bad judgement on his big brother (and big problems for him) he adds, "Today's Dean's day. Tomorrow's mine. Believe me, he'll be the bored one this time tomorrow."

Her lips go up at his words, "So what is it? Books or something?"

She'd already sized them up, and it was obvious Dean was the outgoing of the two siblings, just as she was when it came to her and Dawn. If Sam was anything like her little sister, he was probably interested in knowledge, and books and all that.

His cheeks go red, and she knows she's close to the mark.

"We're not far from Hollywood Star Lanes." Dean says all of a sudden, clearly not having heard a word of her and Sam's discussion.

"Bowling?" She says unenthusiastically.

"Think about it. My gut tells me you're probably good at it, and to be honest, I'm pretty awesome at it. Maybe we can lure some suckers into a bet and win a little dough. Win-win for everybody."

She opens her mouth to argue that only winner in this deal is him, but he speaks first.

"There's an arcade there too, and though Sammy's not likely to admit it, he is a fan of those. Like I said, win-win for everybody."

She's momentarily abashed, he'd heard after all.

"What about me?" She finally asks.

He shoots his little brother a look and Sammy starts moving a few steps away, seemingly interested in the star just ahead of them.

"Have you ever been bowling?" He asks, folding up the map and sliding it into his back pocket.

Truthfully, she had. When her parents were still together, her dad tried taking her and Dawn there once. Dawn was too little to really play on her own, so she teamed up with their dad. She's still not sure why, maybe because it was around the time that things got bad between her parents, or maybe because he seemed to favour Dawn in those days and she couldn't but feel jealous of them teaming up, but she was such a bad sport the entire time that he never took them again.

"No." She responds, deciding that day hardly counted, especially since she didn't exactly want to get into it.

He steps closer, and lowers his voice, "Then I'll teach you how it's done. Win-win for you _and_ me."

With him standing so close, for once she's in complete agreement.

She's in complete agreement but with him standing so close, she can't seem to find the words to say as much, so she simply nods.

He smiles brazenly at her, "I thought you might agree."

 **†**

When they actually arrive at the alley, she instantly regrets her decision to come here. It isn't a dump, but it's old, like super old, and it takes her a moment to slide on the worn out shoes she'd just rented. But then Dean hands over a few bills and some change and Sam is off, and after they choose a lane close to the arcade, some of his earlier cheeseball act fades away.

He enters her name as Sandy and his as Danny, and he says it's part of the act, but she doesn't exactly believe him. He helps her find a ball her size, which ends up being kinda tricky considering the thinness of her fingers. Showing her how to do it, he goes first and gets a strike, and surprisingly he's not as smug about it as she thought he would be.

Making sure to keep her strength in check, she tosses the bowling ball down the lane and she does pretty well by only missing two. Considering she's the slayer, she expected to get a perfect score, and feels a little let down she didn't.

"That wasn't bad," He says.

She turns to him, his expression even as he stands and moves toward the dispenser. When the glittery green ball pops up he grabs it and walks over to her.

"You just need to work a little on your form."

As he passes the ball to her, he notes how her hands hardly droop with the weight of it, but the thought is abandoned as he speaks.

"I can show you."

With a dubious expression she asks, "Is this just some ruse to cop a feel?"

He almost seems to smoulder as he answers, "If that were the case, I wouldn't need some excuse to get your permission to do it." Besides, I thought we agreed this is how you're going to win in this scenario. situation

She grins at his words, mostly because she has no doubt about him being correct, but instead says, "Right, my bad."

She lets the ball go from her left, her right arm moving straight down with it loose at her side as she turns away from him and faces the bowling lane instead.

"Whenever you're ready, Yoda."

She spares a look at him, her brows going up as she speaks, silently defying him to do more than just teach her how to throw.

He smirks briefly at her, and moves to her right, standing slightly behind her. Placing his hand over hers, he pulls her arm back, and leans in closer to her ear.

"Push the ball out straight forward and slightly down."

He guides her arm, and though the moment is like something out of a cheesy rom-com, she has a hard time focusing on his words. She can't deny that she'd found him cute from the moment she'd laid eyes on him, but with her emotions tied up with a certain vampire back home, she hadn't expected to feel much more than that, especially not the exhilaration she feels now (and earlier), at his closeness.

"Let the ball swing freely from your shoulder as you keep moving forward."

He moves away then, and she can feel the loss of his 'very human' body heat. She manages to recover, and throws the ball following his advice. Thankfully she gets both pins.

"See? I knew you had skills. After this game you'll be good to go." He says to her as she moves past him to the seats behind them.

He moves over to the dispenser, and grabs the ball he'd chosen, a black one with white flecks in it.

"Of course, for this bet we're gonna make against some poor fools." She replies acutely.

"Right."

He doesn't seem to pick up on her tone as he says nothing else, just walks over to the lane. She watches him as he adjusts his position, and takes his shot. As he does so, she realizes that this isn't that bad of an activity after all.

He misses three pins.

"I thought you were awesome at this," She teases as he moves to grab another ball.

"I was distracted."

"Right," She answers grinning.

With an equally humorous grin he replies, "It's not easy to focus when you can feel someone checking you out."

He turns away from her as he finds another ball that he likes. She feels her cheeks burn at his words, but she doesn't give him the chance to tease her about it.

"I know exactly how you feel." She says her voice heavy with insinuation.

Having found the right one, he takes a few steps and stops before her.

"It's nice when the person owns up to it though, wouldn't you agree?"

His expression is devious, and he's realized that not only has she not denied checking him out, he's also getting the chance to validate his manner of openly hitting on her.

"Oh I don't know about that," She banters back.

"Sometimes the anticipation of something is better than the actual thing you want."

Her tone is almost disheartened, as if she seems to be contemplating the possibility of that, but then she speaks.

"I don't think that's what's happening here though."

Her eyes roam over him appreciatively as she grins mischievously and adds, "Not by the looks of it."

This time, he blushes.

 **†**

After the first round when he beats her by two points, she bets him that he can't do it again.

"What do I get if I do win?"

"The pleasure of beating me twice. Believe me, that's not a task easily accomplished."

And that was nowhere near a lie. Not that it mattered in any case, she planned on winning this next round, and that pretty much made it a done deal.

"And if I lose?"

"Basically the same. What can I say? Beating a boy at his own game is a gift in and of itself."

"I gotta say, that doesn't really make for an interesting game. Let me suggest this instead: If I win, you come with me to Sam's boring book day. If you win, I'll take you on a real date."

"That's only a fair bet assuming that's the prize I want."

"Didn't you just say beating me was a 'gift in and of itself'? I tossed in a bonus, more for you."

He's got her there, and so she just smiles and sticks out her hand, "Fine. You have a deal."

The second round, she enters their names as Lisa and Screech and he laughs. She beats him by four points, and she tries not to seem too smug about it. They stop there, and make their way over to the arcade side and to Sam.

"I suppose I get to pick what we do, don't I?" She asks brightly as they walk in tandem.

It's obvious he's a little stung by the loss as he only nods.

"I'll have to think about that and get back to you."

They reach Sam a few feet later, his attention on one of the old video game machines in the room. Dean's surprised to find this place has the Simpson's arcade game, and doubly surprised to find his brother playing it.

Sam spares each of them a brief glance before turning back to the screen.

"So you won then?" He asks Buffy.

Still gloating, she answers, "That obvious huh?"

He nods.

"Well your brother won the first round, and then I won the second. It's almost like a tie."

She's rubbing it in, and by the grin on Sam's face it's clear he can tell too, only Dean reacts to her words.

"What do you mean almost? That's the very definition of a tie." He suddenly pipes up.

"Well the first round was literally the first time i've ever actually bowled, and you beat me by two points. And in the second, I beat you by four. Like I said, almost a tie."

His lips go up but his expression is more shock than joy, "And you say I never stop."

She feels properly abashed after his comment, because he's right after all. From the moment she met him, she's teased him more often than not.

"You seem to bring it out in me." She admits truthfully. "It's probably to even out all your dirty innuendo."

"It's a fair trade." He answers simply, shrugging a shoulder.

He seems to remember Sam is there and quickly turns to his little brother who seems to have decided not to add another quarter to continue play.

"I didn't think you were a big fan of the Simpsons?"

"I'm not, there's not much to choose from."

He signals around at the few machines currently 'out of order', and Dean suddenly feels bad he relegated his brother to this part of the bowling alley.

"On that note, how bout we go get a bite to eat?"

 **†**

They stop for dinner at Mel's drive-in diner, per Dean's request.

His eyes seem to light up as they enter the semi-packed restaurant, and she soon finds out that he's a big fan of some movie that'd been filmed here decades ago. She'd never actually heard of the movie, but pretended that she did, though she doesn't go as far as claiming to have seen it.

The place seems to fit in with the day's mood and activities, and she finds its fifties decor oddly pleasing. Her and Dean order the classic burger and fries, and Sam orders a Cobb salad, and the three of them share a banana split.

It's after seven by the time they exit the diner, and when she informs them that she's gotta be home in less than an hour, Dean seems surprised by the earliness of the hour.

"My dad has this whole thing about me being downtown late at night."

Though obviously not in the same context nor for the same reason's, it's a concern Dean is familiar with. Sure, their dad left them for weeks at a time but he never left without making sure Dean understood that wandering the streets at night with Sammy was out of the question. So, he only nods, a look of complete understanding on his face.

"Whereabouts do you live? Maybe Sam and I can accompany you home."

The offer isn't something John Winchester would be happy about, but then again, letting her walk home alone isn't necessarily the right choice either.

For a quick moment, Buffy doesn't want to admit it, especially since he'll realize how close it actually is to where they are, but decides he'll probably figure it out sooner or later.

"Los Feliz." She answers simply.

Dean smirks, "I thought you weren't that close."

His reply surprises her. She hadn't exactly expected him to pick up on it that quickly.

"Ok yes, but it's not like you gave me much of a heads up. Girls don't just wake up looking perfect you know."

"I'm sure you look perfect no matter what you are or aren't wearing."

With a smirk she nudges him playfully, grateful Sam's a few steps ahead of them, and doesn't seem to have heard his older brother's words.

"Cool it bub." She says semi-seriously.

He chuckles lightly, and by the expression on his face, it seems he's realized that maybe he'd gone a tad too far.

"You're right, that one was a little over the top, my bad."

Her brows go, and her lips slightly turn up, almost as if to say 'a little?'

With a shrug he adds, "What can I say? You seem to bring it out of me."

* * *

a/n: So yeah, not my best chapter. With Sam in tow, Dean's voice still new to me, and most of the ideas I have floating around my head set much after this first 'date', writing this was a lot harder than I expected, hence why a lot of it is told from Buffy's POV. Hopefully, when I finally pass the setup part (aka this chapter and a few more) it will make for a better read.

Thanks for all the response to this story, and for sticking with me despite the slows updates. You guys truly are the best.


	5. Chapter III

because no one likes a vague **disclaimer:** All main characters belong to both fantasticals Joss Whedon and Eric Kripke.

Sorry for the uber long delay. Thanks for your patience.

* * *

 **CHAPTER III**

 **†**

There's something about them sitting in this car together that seems to unnerve them both, and the short ride is quiet, aside from the sound of classic rock coming from the tape deck. He pulls into the lot of his motel and parks the car in front of his room.

As he shuts off the ignition, and the music comes to a halt, her eyes go from the door of his room over to him. Luckily he's turned to the car door already opening it, and she can feel herself blush. She turns to do the same, and misses him glancing over at her. Consequently, they both get out without a word, an awkward silence following them both out and as they catch each other's eyes, they both speak at the same time.

"We're going to-"

"It's just over-"

They both stop and grin haphazardly at each other.

"You first." Dean says then.

She moves away from the passenger side as he moves away from his, and they meet at the rear of the Impala.

"You seem to already know where I mean, Strad's?"

"Ya I know it. Hard to forget."

They move away from the car, crossing the lot to reach the sidewalk heading towards the pub.

She chuckle's lightly, "It's short for some complicated name I can't quite remember but it's an expression, 'something or someone embodying excellence'. It's based on some famous Italian violin maker or something, naturally no one in Ohio gets it. "

"How do you?" He asks, considering it's not something many would.

She contemplates the truth: She'd discovered the place when she found out it was owned by a demon, and she stopped by to make sure everything was kosher, and that there was no 'kitty poker' being played on the premises. When she got there, she realized it was just a regular old bar.

The owner was a guy named Dante who happened to be only half brachen, and was just seeking a normal life. She started coming by, at first just to be safe. Then as she got to know the guy, she came to see that he was a good man, liked him even.

But would a hunter understand that shade of grey? Something in her gut tells her to keep it to herself.

"I come here sometimes," She shrugs noncommittally.

He grins as if he's just learned something valuable and replies, "So you live close by then."

She thinks about scoffing at him playfully, especially considering this is the third time he's asked where she lives, but she decides to just answer him candidly, "I do."

"Good to know."

There's a moment's pause in their conversation as they cross the intersection. She wonders briefly what will come of this night, and if he'll ever actually see where she lives. Although she'd had that summer fling with him years back, now everything is different. She hadn't met too many hunters but the ones she had didn't exactly give her much faith in them. As much as he still feels like the Dean of that summer, she wants to be cautious, and make sure she keeps up the guise of being just a hunter.

"So how long you been living in Cleveland?" He asks as they reach the other side.

She turns to look at him before answering, "Not too long, just a few months."

She knows he's going to ask her why she moved here, but luckily they arrive at the pub before he has the chance to. They pick a table near the back of the place, facing the bar. It isn't too packed, probably because it's a Tuesday and it's already late.

Their waitress, a girl named Mandy with dark eyes and bright red hair, whom she knows well, arrives promptly to take their order.

"Hey Buffy," She says, grinning far too brightly. "Nice to see you on a…"

She eyes Dean suggestively for a moment before continuing, "Tuesday."

Buffy knows she'd been hinting at the word 'date' and not 'Tuesday', and thankfully Dean's too preoccupied with the drink list to notice Mandy's teasing manner.

"Yeah, just stopping by for a drink with an old friend," She replies, giving her waitress friend a kind of glare slash 'please stop' look.

She turns towards Dean only to find his eyes on her, and she grins, hoping he hasn't seen what she just did.

"I'll have a pint of Dort." She says in an effort to seem casual.

"Same," Dean adds, his lips slightly turned up as he puts the menu down.

"And two shots of JD."

She gives him a surprised look, "I hope you don't expect me to drink one of those."

"Something tells me you can handle it."

Just as she's about to retort back Mandy speaks first.

"Oh she definitely can," She says with a smile just before walking away.

Dean kind of chuckles as he waits for Buffy's eyes, who seem preoccupied with whats going on around them, to find his. When they do, he smirks at her roguishly.

"So you only come here sometimes you said?"

She shrugs, "It's not a big bar, but yeah I guess enough times to kinda know one of the three waitresses this place has."

She smirks back at him after she speaks, feeling as if she's just won this round in their verbal game of playful (and slightly flirtatious) banter. He seems to know it too and doesn't say anything in return. Mandy arrives a few moments later still smiling, but thankfully she delivers their drinks and only wiggles her eyebrows suggestively at Buffy before leaving once more with a heavy 'enjoy', the grin still plastered on her face.

Just the two of them once more, she decides to fill the silence before their conversation resumes where they'd left off.

"So how'd you hear about that spirit anyway?" She asks him, reaching for her beer.

"First things first," He replies as he picks up the shot glass and gestures for her to do the same.

She kind of grumbles but reaches for the shot. He raises his glass and waits for her to do the same, she does but only lifts her arm slightly.

"To ' _old friends_ ' and ' _new beginnings_ '."

She hadn't expected an actual toast, so as he speaks she's already lifting the tumbler to her mouth, but she keeps the glass at her lips and waits for him to finish. She picks up on his words and tone but doesn't address it, only tilts the glass back, feeling the familiar burn of the whiskey as it slides down her throat. She's never really liked the taste of it, but it's one of the few hard liquors that actually stands up to her slayer metabolism. With that, and how it also reminds her of Spike, it tends to be her poison of choice.

He shoots his down quickly and watches her do the same, noticing how she flinches slightly at the kick of the alcohol, but doesn't immediately reach for her beer.

"So, you were going to tell me how you found out about the spirit." She asks after a few seconds.

Ghosts, and the afterlife, had never really been her forte, in fact she'd only ever really dealt with them a few times. Besides, in her world, there were always bigger threats than vindictive spirits she had to deal with. But she needed to know how Dean had heard of this ghost and her and the slayers hadn't.

He didn't really want to admit it because his source had been his dad and he didn't want her to think he wasn't capable of finding his own cases.

"The internet." He answers, hoping it's enough of an answer.

Seemingly unconvinced, she asks, "Like on Yahoo or Craigslist or something?"

He chuckles, not because she's obviously being cheeky, but because she's not far off from the truth. These days, being on his own, when the papers are fresh out of leads and he resorts to the internet, he's not always successful in finding a solid case, mostly because he's never been good with the research part, nor with computers in general.

"It's a little more complicated than that, but more or less, yeah."

She nods, but he can tell she's still not entirely satisfied with this answer, but she doesn't press the issue further. Not at first.

"Wait- So you travel around the country looking for evil based on information that may or may not be true?"

She regrets her choice of words because she doesn't mean to sound derisive, she's just genuinely curious. She can't imagine a life on the road being very easy, and as she thinks that, she realizes he's probably been a hunter ever since she first met him, maybe even longer.

"I'm sorry, that came out wrong. I only meant-"

"It's ok," He interrupts. "It's pretty much like that after all."

He takes a long swig from his beer, and though he's hiding it well, she can tell he'd been jilted by her words.

A few seconds go by before he speaks, "What about you? I'm guessing that's not your way."

"Oh you know," She starts casually, trying to make her voice sound light.

"The less direct approach. I wait around for bad things to happen."

His lips turn up a little, and he fidgets with the glass in his hands.

"I guess neither of us has it exactly right."

"Better than nothing at least." She replies.

She can hear the maudlin tone in her voice and she smiles brightly and tries to change the subject.

"So, I take it you don't only hunt the dead."

His lips go up but it isn't exactly a smile, "Do you?"

It's not a direct answer but she gets what he means.

"Not exactly," She replies though she's sure he hardly expected her to say anything.

Everything goes quiet then, and she fills the stillness by drinking from her own pint of alcohol. She suddenly realizes that though they now know their lives are cut from the same cloth, it seems there's even more need for secrecy and careful answers. She thinks of something to say but falters, unable to produce anything that she herself would be comfortable sharing.

"So why'd you leave California anyway?" He eventually asks, breaking the uncomfortable silence now surrounding them.

The question doesn't help and she can feel herself go stiff as she tries to find a proper response.

"Um…"

Fortunately, in that moment Mandy arrives with a pitcher of beer and two shot glasses of amber liquid on her tray promptly interrupting their conversation as she places the items on their table and says, "These are on Dante."

Buffy instinctively turns towards the bar and sees him smirk at her. No doubt he can sense the tension in their conversation and probably thinks the alcohol will help ease it away.

"He thought you might need it," Mandy says then, almost playfully.

She smiles back at him almost despairingly, then turns back to the table.

"Enjoy guys," Her red haired friend says before shooting an encouraging smile at Buffy and walking away.

She now realizes she'd made a grave error in bringing him here. She does after all frequent the place not just for the alcohol, but because she's managed to befriend the people she'd originally been investigating. Even if nothing became of this, it'd forever loom over her because in all the time she's been coming here, never once has she ever shown up with anyone else.

"That's the owner right?" Dean says then, looking back as well, raising his glass in gratitude when he catches sight of the face Buffy had just been grinning at.

She doesn't turn to see Dante's reaction, instead she reaches for her shot glass and waits for Dean to face her once more.

"Yeah," She answers, managing to sound unaffected.

His eyes finally return to her as she speaks, and he sees the shot in her hand.

"In a rush?" He teases as he reaches for his own glass.

She almost says yes, instead she shrugs and replies, "More to avoid another Winchester toast."

Then she raises the tumbler to her mouth and knocks back the shot, a second or two go by and he does the same.

In an effort to avoid talk of Sunnydale once more she decides to answer.

"To be honest, kinda," Hoping he doesn't take it personally, mainly because it's not about him.

She's about to explain but his expression at her words is more amusement than surprise as he chuckles. He speaks instead.

"Because everyone knows you so well, right?"

She actually blushes, "Am I that obvious?"

Again he laughs, "A little."

Before he has a chance to ask again about her hometown she asks him about the spirit instead and after he tells her the gritty details they end up swapping 'hunting' stories as they finish the free pitcher of beer. She keeps her stories to the ones from her early days; such as the preying mantis substitute teacher, and the puppet/hunter she met in a theatre, artfully making the stories sound recent and avoiding mention of Angel and all her Scooby friends.

When she comes back from the ladies room, Mandy's at their table talking animatedly with Dean, and she nearly rushes to the table.

"Dean was just telling me he hails from Kansas, and of course a series of Wizard of Oz references ensued."

"Like how he's not in Kansas anymore?" Buffy says then, feeling relief when she realizes that they hadn't been talking about her.

Mandy snickers, "Exactly."

Dean is oddly silent, and she changes the subject.

"Do you think I could get the bill, Mandy?"

She grins, oblivious to Dean's demeanour and answers, "Already settled. I'll see you soon yeah?"

She turns to Dean and adds, "It was nice meeting you Dean. Maybe we'll see you around here again."

Dean returns the gesture and only says, "Maybe. Tell Dante I said thanks for the booze."

"Sure thing."

As she leaves he stands, "Shall we?" He asks Buffy.

She nods but doesn't say anything, only leads him out thankful Dante seems to be in his office or somewhere so she only locks eyes with Mandy as they leave. Once outside, the quiet is stark to the bustle inside the small bar.

"So, where to now?" He asks casually.

She looks around, before taking a few steps away and turning back to him.

"I can walk you home," She offers.

She's not really ready to end the night, and that's why she does. He deflates but only a little.

"Or… I could walk _you_ home," He counters back.

She pretends to think about it for a moment, "Another time."

She manages an almost flirtatious tone, and he seems satisfied with this reply. They walk back to his motel in near silence and when the back of the Impala comes into view, her insides feel all jumbled up.

She steps up off the pavement and onto the little landing leading to his room when she realizes he's not beside her anymore. She turns back and no longer sees him, the open trunk blocking him from her view. She waits there a few seconds before he reaches up and pulls the trunk shut, his eyes finding hers after he does.

Their gazes remain locked as he moves towards her and stops before her, their heads remaining level as she stands on the curb. He doesn't actually appear to have grabbed anything from the car, but she's not even remotely curious, instead she's focused on how the air around them suddenly seems supercharged.

"I guess this means goodnight." He says then, unmoving.

She nods but doesn't say anything in response. After a few seconds he kind of exhales, seemingly resigned and starts to move past her. Suddenly though, she reaches out for the lapel of his leather jacket halting his movements and plants her lips on his own in a haphazard kiss. She pulls away quickly, almost as if she's worried the action is unwelcome.

She opens her mouth to apologize when he reaches out and keeping her gaze, he smoothes her hair behind her ear and slowly cups her neck, pulling her close once more, this time for a gentle but deliberate kiss.

It's been years, and though everything between them has changed she realizes that there's at least one thing that hasn't: the way his lips feel pressed against hers.

* * *

A/N: I'm not sure why, but writing this was hard. This new 'verse is still new to me, and though I have lots of ideas, getting them down has been more than difficult. Hopefully as I get further in, updates won't take as long. Let me know what you guys think, I'd greatly appreciate it. Thanks again.


	6. Chapter IV

because no one likes a vague **disclaimer:** All main characters belong to both fantasticals Joss Whedon and Eric Kripke.

Hiatus finally over. Sorry about that.

* * *

 **Chapter IV**

 **†**

Surprisingly, she pulls away from the kiss gently even though inside she's chiding herself for what she's just done. She hasn't exactly broken her oath to be cautious regarding the fact that he's a hunter and she's the slayer, but she's pretty sure kissing him undermines the notion. As his hand slides down from her neck, she almost sneers at the Impala feeling certain it played a part in her actions. When she catches his eye, she smiles hoping the expression isn't as sheepish as it feels.

"That was…" She starts to say but he cuts her off.

"If you're about to say 'an accident', I can assure you a kiss like that is anything _but_."

She's almost grateful for his playful tone and feels her self-consciousness fade away at his words.

"I was going to say _unexpected_ but now I think I'll demote that to _regretful_ ," she chides back.

She feels movement return to her muscles and she takes a step away from him. He seems to sense the moment is over and reaches into his jacket pocket in search for his room key.

"I doubt that," he replies with a smirk then walks to his front door sliding the key into the lock.

"You might be right. I'll need the night to think it over though."

Without opening the door he turns back to her, "the _whole_ night?"

Getting the implication, she replies, "I should probably head out. I have to get up early for work."

It isn't a lie, other than the fact that she's heading to the school and _not_ to work.

"You've got a day job?" He inquires dubiously.

This in turn surprises her, and she asks, "What, you don't?"

He's not sure he wants to get into how he earns his money, not yet at least, so he replies with a comment instead, "It seems we handle this gig in very different ways. I'll be interested to learn how you go about it, because I gotta say, I've never met a hunter with a 9 to 5."

"Well ditto because I've never met anyone who could get by without one," She replies.

Sure, some of her crew didn't have jobs, but that was only thanks to the slayerettes' part time gigs and the donations they received from some of their allies.

"How about tomorrow? I was gonna leave town, but it seems I've just found a reason to prolong my stay."

She grins broadly, "You _just_ found a reason huh?"

He kind of chuckles before answering.

" _Just_ meaning within the past few hours."

"Right," She retorts, smirking back at him.

There's a small lull in their conversation and he turns away for a brief moment to open the door. Suddenly she can see into the darkened room, and the sight of his bed smack in the middle complete with disheveled sheets causes her cheeks to flush.

He turns the light on before turning back to her and the brightness forces her to take a step back.

"So I'll see you tomorrow then?" She says when he's looking at her once more.

He nods, but before he gets the chance to say anything she adds, "This time, i'll call you."

"Well in case you don't reach me for whatever reason, how about I give you my real number, in case you change your mind?"

He doesn't wait for her to answer just turns once more to his front door and disappears inside. He comes back in a few seconds with a pen in hand and walks right over to her. He extends his arm towards her with his free hand.

Just as she's about to extend her own arm and place her hand palm up in his, she says, "You seem to be under the impression that you might not hear from me tomorrow, am I right?"

He nods, but only writes down his primary cell phone's number onto her palm, in his scratchy penmanship.

"Why is that?" She asks as he holds her hand, scribbling.

"Well you've been pretty evasive all night, so I just assumed you might not be interested in rekindling our old… _friendship_."

He finishes writing before talking, dropping his arms when he does, so his eyes are on hers as his words come to an end. She rolls her eyes at him but doesn't address his words, at least not directly.

"Oh how the tables have turned," She says looking down at the numbers written on her palm.

When she looks back up at him, she grins mischievously at him.

"I guess you'll just have to wait and see then."

She doesn't say much else after that just smiles salaciously and says "Goodnight" before turning to walk away.

"Goodnight," He calls after her, but she doesn't turn.

She knows where this night would end if given his way, but the truth is, she'd jump into the sack with him in a New York minute if given the chance. She hasn't really been with anyone since Spike after all, and it's not for a lack of willingness on her part, she just hasn't really connected with anyone yet. She walks home feeling sixteen all over again, and can't help the grin plastered on her face.

 **d†b**

He wakes early feeling unrested, and though he feels like going out for a hearty breakfast, he doesn't. He settles for a coffee instead and some powdered donuts from the motel's 'continental' breakfast. He spends the morning flicking through tv channels, not really focusing on any one in particular.

Just after noon he hears a knock on the door, and not having really dressed yet, throws on a pair of jeans before answering the door. He can't avoid the surprised look that crosses his face at seeing her standing there smiling brightly up at him.

"Looks like I didn't have to wait too long after all," He says, holding the door wide.

"Guess not," She answers simply.

"I thought you had to work," He says with an obvious questioning tone in his voice.

"I did, but it wasn't busy so I left early."

He nods, and for a second neither speaks. Feeling the need to break the silence and feeling strange standing at his room door, he does the only thing he can think of.

"You wanna come in for a bit?" He asks, stepping aside and giving her space to enter.

She looks into his room but doesn't move. She speaks instead.

"I thought we could head out. I know a great brunch place that's not too far, and I take it you haven't eaten yet."

He wonders if she thinks he'd been waiting for her call, and truth be told, he now realizes that he had in fact, been holding out for her.

"You are right, but I need a few minutes before we do."

"To doll up?" She asks teasingly.

He smirks at her, getting the reference.

"You could say that."

She still hasn't moved from the spot in front of him, and he realizes she's not going to take him up on his offer so he speaks before it gets too uncomfortable.

"I'll be back in five."

He doesn't really give her a chance to say anything as he dashes back inside to brush his teeth and add the necessary layers for venturing outside, changing his t-shirt before he does so. Luckily, he'd showered just the night before when he got back, so he only adds a layer of deodorant before throwing on his jacket and grabbing his room key.

When he steps outside, he sees her leaning on the hood of his car. Normally he wouldn't be ok with this, but she's probably barely 100 pounds soaking wet and scolding her isn't conducive to his plans.

She straightens up and smirks at him, her expression as if he just caught her red-handed.

"You're probably not too fond of that," She says almost teasingly.

He grins back at her, "Not usually, but I can't imagine your _as_ -"

He pauses for a second then continues, "- _small_ frame will cause any harm to the hood."

"Nice save," She replies, her brows going up a little before she speaks.

He steps over to the Impala, fishing for his keys as he does so. She reaches the passenger side when he reaches the driver's, and he flashes her a grin before opening the door and getting in.

They don't speak of anything consequential, not until long after they reach their destination and not until their food is served and the waiter is gone.

He'd spent the rest of the previous night (and some of the morning) piecing together what he remembered of her, and what he'd just learned in the couple of hours he'd spent with her. One thing he knows for sure, she's no longer the same girl he once knew. She's a lot more guarded now (and sadder somehow), and considering how much effort she made to steer the conversation away from herself, it seems obvious now she'd likely left California for the same reason she's now a hunter.

The one thing all hunter's share in common, how each and every one gets their start, so he knows it's not something he should bring up. Lost in thought, she's raising her fork to her lips when his first question comes to mind.

"So why Cleveland?"

She hesitates for the briefest of moments before taking the bite of food, and seems to consider the question as she chews. He picks up his cutlery and starts to dig into his own plate as he waits for her to answer.

After taking a sip of her coffee, she finally does, "Some friends of mine live here. After my mom died… and there was nothing left of Sunny-" the word ends abruptly as she takes a brief pause before adding choppily, " _In_ Sunnydale. For Dawn and me. To want to stay. So we moved here instead."

He doesn't speak in return, just takes a bite of his own meal as he takes in her words. He's not surprised by how right he'd been, feeling only regret that he is. He wonders about her dad, but suspects he probably isn't in the picture anymore by his lack of mention.

It's quiet for a moment, the sounds of the cafe around them and the clash of their forks against the cheap ceramic plates filling the air around them.

"How is Dawn?" He asks, trying to change the subject.

He'd been so wrapped up in running into her after all this time, he hardly remembered her little sister, he'd only met her a couple of times that summer after all.

It works as she suddenly smiles brightly. "She's good. Doesn't drive me crazy anymore, at least not as much. She's in her last year of highschool."

He smiles, but the topic reminds him of his own sibling, which still isn't an issue he's ready to deal with. She seems to realize this as she changes the subject yet again.

"I don't only patrol Cleveland," She says after a moment.

"The surrounding area too. Whatever I can find."

She shrugs, "I mean, I can't say I'm always busy either, but it's something."

"More than most," He says then, his voice sounding fully convinced in the idea.

She smiles almost gratefully before replying, "Not you though. Not now anyway."

There's no malcontent in her tone, and he doesn't say anything in response. He can't deny that the lone road has always been tough, but since he's hardly known much else, he's long grown accustomed to his way of life. And if he were being completely honest with himself, he can't imagine being stuck in one spot alone, like she seems to be.

"Oh I don't know, I'm sure your way has its own challenges," He counters back, hoping the topic of discussion will end there.

Luckily, she doesn't disappoint.

"Well, you're welcome to find out if you want, though I can't promise it'll be very interesting."

Her tone is less than enthused, but surprisingly enough he's actually intrigued (or perhaps eager for a good excuse to hang around), in any case, he decides to take her up on her offer.

"I must admit, I am… curious about a few things."

Reaching for her cup, she smiles, "Such as?"

More than a couple of topics are already on the tip of his tongue as she gives him a chance to ask his first question. Deciding he doesn't want to ambush her he starts with what in his mind is the least harmful.

"Well for starters, you said you have a 9 to 5, what is it you do?"

She seems to almost sigh in relief before answering. "I work at a café downtown. The pay isn't great, but the tips are good, and my nights are free."

He figured it had to be something in service, he can't imagine anyone being able to both fight the supernatural by night, and handle a career by day. He nods and leads into his next question.

"And how do you…" He pauses, looking for the right way to explain what he means.

She finishes for him instead, "Take on the undead?"

Instinctively he looks around them, to make sure no one heard her less than discreet words. When he's satisfied no one seems interested in them, he turns back only to find her smiling at him.

"Believe me, no one cares what we're talking about."

Taking a bite of her toast, she returns to her meal once more. He follows her lead as he waits for her to finally answer, deciding to forget the odd tone of her voice.

"Not too different from you actually. I check the news and papers that sort of thing. But I patrol, and I do a little recon, once in a while anyway."

He opens his mouth because it isn't exactly what he'd meant, he wanted to know how she actually did it. While he won't call her dainty nor fragile, she's a wisp of a woman, he's not sure how she's lasted this long when men nearly twice her size, with training and years of experience, dropped like flies.

"Nothing fancy of course, I check out sketchy places, and I know a few people who keep an ear out for anything weird."

The urge fades, or sense returns, he's not sure which, but he doesn't prod with his true question, only tries to absorb her lifestyle with the little information she's given him. She's being carefully vague, and though he'd like to press for more details, he's pretty sure she won't be very forthcoming, and so he tries another approach.

"So last night, you were on a patrol?"

She shrugs, "It was more of a walk really."

He can't help but note how nonchalant she is about it, as if strolling through a cemetery at night is no big thing. She takes a bite of her food so he waits a moment before asking his next question.

"Did you run into anyone- er, _anything_ else before me?"

Again, she doesn't seem concerned as she replies, "Just your run-of-the-mill, freshly risen vamp. No big deal."

His eyes go wide not only because vampires are supposed to be near extinct and difficult to kill, she seems to be able to handle them with little effort. In the end, unable to let it go, he opens his mouth to ask what will likely offend her feminist sensibilities.

"Ok, I have to know, how do you do it? Are you some kind of black belt karate master or something?"

A short laugh erupts from her throat, as she realizes what he means.

"You could say that," She answers still smiling.

"I told you, I train, a lot, and I'm spry. Years of cheerleading has also come in handy."

He's not sure how he'd forgotten _that_ bit of information, and he smiles broadly as images of Buffy in a cheerleader uniform kicking evil's ass flash through his mind.

"That's something I gotta see for my own two eyes. You don't happen to have the uniform still do you?" He asks, trying to sound casual though failing to completely hide the smirk on his face.

By the blush on her cheeks he knows she gets the innuendo.

"You have no shame," She tries to reprimand him, but she's grinning at him and he knows she's not all that bothered by it.

"Hey, you brought it up."

She stops for a moment before she speaks, "I did. I guess I forgot about your dirty mind, or maybe I thought after, what has it been? 6 years? or seven? You might have come up with better pick up lines."

She gives him a pointed look before returning to her toast. He can't help the chuckle that escapes his throat at her expression, but he manages to reign it into a smile before answering.

"Who says I haven't? I wasn't lying when I said I missed that wicked tongue of yours, and as I remember my dirty mouth always riled you up."

She's clearly appalled by his words, he can tell, not only by the flush of her cheeks, though it's more burn than blush now, but because she remains silent, and without retort. For a moment anyway.

"If by 'riled up' you mean 'disgusted', then you're not wrong."

He's enjoying this back and forth conversation they're having so he laughs, this time with mirth.

"I think you know that's not how you felt, not then and certainly not now."

She seems to have found her footing as she no longer reacts to his words.

"Maybe not, but I do know you're not helping your case right now."

There's still a smirk in his features when he finally speaks, "In that case, let me just say, these pancakes are delicious."

And it works. She smiles at him, just as he knew she would.

 **b†d**

After the cheerleading incident (she's shamed to admit she brought up exactly because she knew what effect it would have), he had not prodded with more questions. Instead they spoke about their meal and she mentioned a place that deep fried basically everything from breaded chicken to mars bars. The distraction worked and she talked about other restaurants and places she'd been to in the city for a while. Then he told her a little about life on the road, and she spoke about Dawn some more.

It's almost late by the time they leave, though she's glad she can still call it afternoon.

"I should probably get home, Dawn should be done school soon," She says once they're outside.

It's not a lie, but it is an excuse as she won't be seeing her little sister, not until tomorrow. It isn't that she wants to leave him either, she only fears what might happen if they wait for dusk together, alone.

He nods.

"Are we still on for tonight?"

He sounds as if he's not sure she's still up for it so she returns the gesture, flashing him a smile in an effort to reassure him before answering, "I'll pick you up, say eight-ish?"

"How about I pick you up?" He counters casually, "So you don't have to walk."

"We won't need your car to patrol, too conspicuous."

He deflates a little as she dodges his fourth attempt to find out where she lives, and suddenly she can't remember why it's so important to keep it from him.

"You can drive me home though," She says with a nudge.

He grins broadly, as if he just won the lottery.

"Deal."

* * *

A/N: I'm not sure how many people are still interested in this, after a year and a half since the last update, which I never intended, I lost inspiration, but i've finally got it back. So updates will resume, and I'll do my best to keep them coming.

Thanks for reading if you decide to stick with me.


End file.
